It is a small room. A bed, a table, a chest of drawers, and a chair, there’s no space for anything else. The washbasin and jug stand on the chest of drawers. A small window opposite the door. If she goes to the window, which way will she be looking? Maybe toward the woods? She’ll know in the morning. Marie would like to see the woods from her window. The windowsill is covered with dust. So is the table, so is the chest of drawers. The room has been standing empty for some time. The air is stale and musty. Marie doesn’t mind. She opens the drawer in the table. There’s an old newspaper cutting inside, yellow with age. And a pillowcase button and the metal screwtop of a preserving jar. Marie closes the drawer again. The bed stands to her right. A simple brown wooden bed frame. The quilt has a blue-and-white cover, and so does the pillow. Sighing, Marie sits down on her bed. She stays there for a while, looking around her room. Giving her thoughts free rein. She misses Traudl and the children.
